Sweet Addiction-A Destiel Fic
by rainistorm
Summary: Dean was ready to end it all. Alone and defeated, he pulled the trigger, but fate had another decision. Angsty, but I promise a happy ending
1. Chapter 1

Dean Winchester clumsily unlocked the door to his dirty one-bedroom apartment, grunting as he made his way to the cramped bathroom. He stumbled over to the mirror above the sink, turning on the cold water and splashing it in his face, a small gasp escaping his lips. He usually tried to avoid looking at his pitiful reflection, but this evening Dean studied himself closely and with purpose. His face had the remnants of being very attractive, his once-bright green eyes were now dull and lifeless, his dirty blonde hair stringy and unkempt.

He ran a hand down his left cheek feeling the prickle of stubble against his calloused fingers. He sighed hopelessly.

Dean had lost his job today; Bobby Singer, the last bit of almost-family he had left in his life had finally given up trying to help Dean through his addiction, knowing a lost cause when he saw one.

Dean couldn't say he was surprised. Nobody wants a druggie for a mechanic. He chuckled, the sound more bitter than humorous, as he took a final glance at the man with sunken eyes and a frail figure.

He was hardly twenty-eight, but could easily pass for his mid-thirties with his appearance.

He walked with heavy feet to his old beaten couch, dropping down onto it hard, and began rifling through the drawer beside him, hands shaking as he searched for the only thing he had left that brought him any feelings of comfort.

He had done the movements so many times before that he hardly had to think as he sprinkled a generous amount of powder from the already-crushed pills onto a spoon, added some water, and applied his trusty lighter to heat it. Dean fidgeted, green eyes sad and hungry as the syringe sucked up the mixture.

His arm was prepped, spotted with old bruises and scars, and his breath hitched as he injected himself quickly. He sat back with closed eyes, feeling euphoria spread through him after only minutes, finally receiving a release from his painful life, if only for a brief moment. This strength, this pseudo-courage, is what he had needed to do what he knew must be done.

One final time, Dean reached into the drawer, grabbing a small handgun he kept for safety purposes. He squeezed his eyes shut, causing several tears to escape and roll down his cheek, as he pressed the cold barrel against his bare chest. His entire body, especially his hands, shook violently, but knew it was the right thing to do.

"I'm sorry, Sammy." Dean whispered through chapped lips, a smile touching his face as he clenched his fingers. His heartbeat was absolutely thumping through his body, echoing in his head.

A final tear slid down his face, and Dean Winchester pulled the trigger.


	2. Chapter 2

**~20 Years Earlier~**

"Dean baby, would you like to help Mommy set the table?" A tall woman with slim figure and long, wavy blonde hair smiled brightly as an energetic young boy came ambling in, green eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Yeah, mommy!" He struck a superhero pose, putting on his best masculine face. The woman giggled lightly and put her hand over her mouth dramatically.

"My big, strong boy!" She exclaimed, making Dean beam with pride.

"Mommy, can I help too?" A smaller boy timidly entered the room, shaggy brown hair covering one o his blue-green eyes as he pouted, lip puffed out expertly.

"Of course you can, Sammy!" Dean cried out, wrapping an arm protectively around his younger brother. The mother noted this and sighed quietly.

"Okay, Sam, but Dean will handle the plates." She said sternly, but there was a warm smile on her face. The phone rang then, and the woman walked over to answer it.

"Hello, Mary." Dean could barely hear the voice on the other side say, and his small head cocked to the side, a frown forming on his face.

"Hello John." Mary spoke curtly, voice suddenly weary. She glanced over, seeing Dean staring at her, and put on a half-hearted smile, placing her hand on the receiver to block out noise.

"Dean, baby, go play with Sammy. Mommy will be done in a moment." She said, voice soft and melodic. Dean didn't budge for several moments, concern in his small eyes, before he finally ran off into the living room, tumbling around with a happy and oblivious Sam on the carpet, still glancing back into the kitchen occasionally.

**~Now~**

Bright light flooded through Dean's closed eyelids, tinting the darkness with a soft orange color. He frowned as he blinked several times, eyes blurry, to see he was surrounded by bright white.

"Am I... dead?" He thought to himself, attempting and failing to move. There was something in his mouth, something tube-like. Oh God, it was in his throat! He began to choke and wretch, panicking. A loud rapid beeping was suddenly assaulting his ears and he desperately tried to get up. Something quickly moved across his still-blurred vision, sudden fatigue filled him, and the world went dark again.

**~20 Years Earlier~**

"Dean, where's Daddy?" The six-year old boy sat up with a frown on his face, questioning in his bright eyes.

Dean pulled Sam close to him, wrapping his arms around his younger brother, as he did quite often.

"Dad's on a trip." Dean lied, stroking Sam's hair. He had repeated this line several times. He, of course, knew it wasn't, and he was certain Sam did too; he was a smart kid, for only six. Dean had held Sam through many of his parents' arguments and comforted Mary through her tears.

When John left, Dean had been devastated. He had admired his dad, wanted to be exactly like him and could always be found by his side.

Now, Dean was filled with bitter resentment for John, and he had stepped up to be the man of the house at the age of eight. The responsibility was hard, but he was ready to take it, and protect Sam and Mary with his life. Even though he hayed John, he still had an urge to prove himself as worthy to his distant and uncaring drunk of a father, even if he couldn't understand why.

"Oh." Sam put his head down, lip puffing out. "When is he coming back?"

"I don't know."

"Where did he go?"

"I just don't know, Sammy."

**~Now~**

"Ugh." A small groan escaped Dean's lips. He felt oddly numb, yet could still feel a throbbing pain throughout him.

"Dean? Dean. Dean!" A man was yelling at him and he raised a heavy hand to swat whoever it was away, only to be constricted by tubes.

"Wha...?" Dean mumbled, voice hoarse and dry. He suddenly felt very thirsty.

His eyes fluttered open and he willed them to focus on the dark figure in front of him.

"Dean? You there?" The voice was familiar, but he couldn't place it. Who the Hell was it?

Dean blinked several more times, focusing on worried blue-green eyes.

"S-sammy?" Dean croaked out, wincing.

"Hey Dean." Sam's voice was slow and sad, confusing Dean.

"What happened? Why are you here?" Dean's voice was a bit more accusatory than he meant and his head spun, attempting to recall events. The memory of a loud bang echoed through his mind, bringing with it the events of the previous night. Dean licked his chapped lips nervously, like a child caught stealing cookies before dinner.

"Oh." He breathed out, averting his eyes from Sam's gaze.

"Dean..." Sam's voice was strained, guilt evident in his face. "You should have called me."

"Why? To get a voice mail? Or so I could hear 'Sorry, I have a life now. I can't have my druggie brother besmirching my status as a lawyer'? No thanks." Dean's voice was bitter, old conversations and bad memories ringing through his head.

"I..." Sam looked away, faltering. There was silence for several minutes, Dean finding comfort in the constant beeping of the heart monitor.

"I've signed you up for a great rehab. It's called 'Harvelle's Haven'. My expense, of course." Sam muttered this last part, as if hoping not to be heard.

"Sam, I'm a lost cause, it's not hard to tell." Dean sighed dejectedly.

"No you're not. And we never should have made you feel that way." Sam's eyes were wet, composure and voice breaking. "I'm so sorry, Dean. I never should have given up on you."

"Well, you did. And so did I. You should have just let me die."

"I would never let that happen!" Sam's eyes widened in shock.

"You might as well have..." Dean turned away again, staring intently at his heart monitor.

"This isn't all my fault, Dean! You have to take some blame too!" Sam was frustrated now, anger in his voice.

"I was trying to!" Dean yelled, gesturing at his bandaged chest. Silence followed for several more moments.

"Just... just please try. I know that you know you need help. Do it for Mom."

Dean froze at this. "Low blow." he growled. Sam pleaded with Dean quietly, lip puffing out slightly like old times, making Dean falter.

"...Fine, I'll do it." Dean rested his head back onto the soft white pillow, wincing, and released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding in as Sam relaxed, a small smile on his face.

"Thank you, Dean. Thank you so much. And I promise to be here for you the entire time." Despite his best efforts, Dean smiled at this.

"Okay, Sammy."

"You can do this, Dean."

"Yeah, okay. I'm gonna sleep now." Sam nodded and left the room as Dean turned around, a small sob escaping his throat.


	3. Chapter 3

**~23 Years Earlier~**

"Don't walk away from me, bitch!" John slurred, reeking of liquor. Mary shooed Dean and Sam into their room where they curled up on Dean's bed, Sam shaking in his elder brother's arm.

"Please be quiet, my sweet angels." She whispered soothingly before closing the door. Dean got up for a moment to flick on the Mickey Mouse night-light they had before climbing back onto his bed and comforting Sam once more.

He listened intently, hearing his mom and dad scream at one another, until he heard a firm smack and his mother's cry.

"Stay here, Sammy." Dean ordered before leaving the room despite Sam's frantic objections.

His mom lay sprawl on the floor, a large red print across her face. She whimpered before sitting up to see Dean.

"Go back to bed, sweetie. Mommy's fine." She assured him, but Dean didn't budge. He glared at his drunken father as angrily as a five-year-old could, his small hands balled into fists at his side.

"Leave Mommy alone!" He yelled, tears welling up in his emerald eyes.

"Scram, Dean." John growled.

"No!"

"Dean, baby plea-"

"No, Mary, if he wants to act like a man, let's treat him like one!" John stumbled over to Dean, hitting him hard in the face. Mary screamed as Dean fell over, crying out despite his best efforts not to.

"Don't you touch my baby!"

"Shut up, bitch! You're next!"

**~Now~**

Dean stayed at the hospital for a long time, losing track of the days in his drugged and pained state. The doctors said he was very lucky. The bullet had just barely missed his heart, going in between his ribs and exiting cleanly without hitting his spine. One in a million chance. Dean snorted.

He had very few visitors, but Sam came every day, sitting with him for hours. They talked about good things like Sam's promotion, Jessica being pregnant, and better times between the two of them. Dean was grateful for this; more grateful than he would ever admit.

Now he stood in front of Harvelle's Haven. The building was big and pristine white with bars on the windows. Dean felt as if he was walking into a prison. Sam nudged him encouragingly and Dean stepped through the automatic doors, entering a sterile-looking waiting room. A secretary sat behind a desk, taking notes as she listened intently to the small earpiece. Looking around at the orderly room, Dean decided it was much more like an insane asylum.

"Hello, my name is Jo. How can I help you?" The blonde-haired secretary smiled up at them and Dean scoffed at her fake cheeriness.

"Um, yes, this is Dean Winchester. He's here to be admitted for treatment. I'm his brother, Sam." Dean shot a look over at the taller man at the word 'treatment'. Jesus, he wasn't some nutcase!

"Oh yes, of course!" She exclaimed, checking some files on her computer. "Ash will lead you to your room, Mr. Winchester." She smiled again as a man with a mullet and ruffled white shirt came out. Dean grimaced.

"Oh you've gotta be freakin' kidding me." He breathed out, receiving a sharp elbow to the side from Sam. They picked up Dean's bags and carried them to the second floor into a decently-sized comfortable-looking room. The floor and walls were made of a light brown wood and the bed was large with a fluffy light blue comforter on it. There was a nightstand with a lamp and a dresser and work desk as well. Overall, it was rather cozy.

"This is where you'll be stayin' for six months." Ash said with a thick Southern accent. "Now lemme just check your bags." Dean hesitantly handed them over, but smiled proudly when nothing was found.

"I'm glad you're really trying, Dean." Sam remarked warmly.

"Of course, Sammy." Dean grumbled. Yes, he was really trying; he didn't WANT to be a burden on his remaining family.

"Yer group sessions with Doctor Novak will begin in the morning." Ash spoke up. Dean cocked an eyebrow at this. It was a rather unusual last name. "If ya'd care to follow me fer the tour." Ash said, pausing at the door.

The brothers followed and Dean had to admit that he was rather impressed. Despite it's intimidating appearance, Harvelle's Haven was rather welcoming on the inside. The cafeteria was spacious and clean with tables similar to that of a mall food court. Downstair, there were also several rooms including an indoor swimming pool, Jacuzzi, pool tables, several large televisions, lounge, ping-pong, a few game systems, and several other things for recreation. Ash informed them that the third floor was more rooms and offices so they didn't bother touring up there, preferring to look outside instead where there were several tennis and volleyball courts, an outside pool, and areas to relax and sunbathe. Through all this, they had managed to hold a homey atmosphere, a feat that didn't go unnoticed by Dean, who had not felt comfortable living somewhere for a long time.

By the time they returned to Dean's room, he felt significantly better about being at the facility. Ash left soon after, leaving Sam and Dean alone. The latter began to unpack, shoving his clothes messily into the drawers.

Sam chuckled at this before sitting up. "I'm gonna go. Let you get settled in and all. I'll see you in a couple days, okay?" Dean nodded and Sam gave him an awkward and unsure hug before departing.

Dean sighed. They used to be so close, and the fact that they were so broken apart now broke his heart. He knew Mary would be upset with how things had turned out, but he was determined to get back on track, to make her proud again. He unpacked a little more before collapsing onto the bed, falling into a fitful and restless sleep.

**~12 Years Earlier~**

"C'mon, Dean. Just try it." The teen coaxed, pushing the syringe towards Dean.

"I dunno..." Dean yawned, bags under his eyes; he hadn't slept right in years, tossing and turning in the night. He examined the needle closely. "This seems like a bad idea, Chuck."

Chuck merely grinned, brown hair sticking out wildly. "You're a mess dude. It'll make you feel better, I promise. Trust me."

"I.. I guess." Dean thought of Sam, who was at school currently, and frowned. He timidly grabbed the drug from Chuck, who was busy preparing Dean's arm for him. "Are you sure this is okay?"

"Fuck yeah, man! I do it all the time, and I'm fine! It inspires me to write my shit."

Dean shifted uncomfortably on Chuck's bed before slowly sticking the needle in his arm, wincing slightly. He pushed down on the plunger then quickly removed it, bracing himself for whatever would come next.

"Chill, dude. You're fine." Chuck patted his shoulder, smiling widely.

A feeling of joy spread through Dean, warming him up. He grinned goofily, feeling good for the first time in many years.

"See?"

"Yeah, man. This is kickass."

"Exactly!" They sat there for several more minutes before Chuck spoke up again. "Hey, I'm thinking about writing a book with... get this..." he paused dramatically. "Angels and demons!"

"Dude, that sounds awesome!" Dean nodded enthusiastically.

"Hell, I'll even include you and Sam in it. And I... I'll be a great prophet. That'll be some awesome shit, there." He grinned again. "Here, lemme set you up with some more of this stuff."

**~Now~**

Dean sat up, groggy and disoriented.

"Where the fuck am I?" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He glanced around at the wooden room and remembered with a groan.

He dressed slowly, attempting to put off a boring meeting with a boring doctor and fucked-up patients. He trudged onward anyways, being directed by a less cheerier Jo. He knew her little act had been just that. In reality, she seemed rather sarcastic and funny, a girl his dad would've liked him to bring home. Hell, he would've liked Dean to bring ANY girl home. He threw that out of his head immediately, irritated with himself.

The walls in the meeting room greatly contrasted the light wood of the rest of the rooms on this floor, being instead painted with spectacular scenery of a lovely garden, bright flora spotted throughout it, most foreign to Dean. Dean marveled in the beauty of it for several moments. The floor had a thick shag carpet on it, and Dean dug his toes into it. There was a large circle of chairs in the center of the room and a table on the side filled with several baked goods and a coffee-maker. Dean eyed the coffee and treats hungrily, deciding to make his way to it directly after the little session was over.

He sat in one of the chairs, which was rather comfy actually, and waited patiently for others to show. A woman with long red hair entered first, scratching her arms and looking around the empty room with a paranoid expression. She was followed by seven or eight others, one of which was happily eating a sucker.

The seat beside Dean was soon the only one empty and he frowned. That meant the doctor was gonna sit by him. Ugh. He didn't want some boring, old, judgmental asshole wheezing beside him.

However, that's not what he got. Instead, a man very likely only a year or two older than him walked in. He had raven black hair that was mussed up and glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. His figure was slim but clearly strong, hidden at the moment by a tan trench coat. He was looking down at a clipboard in his hands as he threw his bag into the corner of the room carelessly. He removed his trench coat, revealing a white button-up shirt and a currently backwards dark blue tie. He stopped by the table, picking up a doughnut before sitting down beside a wide-eyed Dean.

"Terribly sorry to be late, you guys. I know I'm only a few doors away, but my alarm clock malfunctioned. I must admit my knowledge on electronics is rather poor." He smiled sheepishly and Dean's heart skipped a beat. "Oh! And you must be Dean Winchester, correct?" He looked over at the blonde man, who was once again caught off-guard by the sapphire-blue eyes now gazing at him through glasses.

Dean nodded, vaguely aware that his mouth was slightly open. "Y-yes, I'm Dean." He said, blinking several times and sitting up straighter in an attempt to pull himself together.

"Ah yes. Well, it's a pleasure to have you here." The man smiled wider, dimples appearing and eyes crinkling happily. "Oh, I'm Doctor Novak, but you may call me Castiel. I rather prefer it, actually." He turned to the group. "Welcome, everyone. Who would like to start us off with sharing?"

The man with the sucker's hand shot up quickly, a mischievous grin on his face. Castiel rolled his eyes.

"Anyone? Anyone at all?" He looked around hopefully, blatantly ignoring the man with honey brown hair and hazel eyes who was now bouncing in his chair.

"Oh, oh! C'mon, Doc, me!" His voice had a tint of sarcasm to it with a carefree, light tone. Castiel sighed in defeat.

"Alright, Gabriel. Please share with the group." Gabriel winked at Castiel before standing up dramatically.

"Firstly, your tie is backwards again, Doc." He remarked. Castiel blushed and frantically worked to fix it. Dean assumed this was a common occurrence and couldn't help but smile.

"Hey guys, my name is Gabriel." He announced in common fashion.

"Hi Gabriel." Everyone mumbled in unison; Dean snorted.

"And I'm a sex addict." He smirked, licking his sucker slowly.

"Gabriel! I implore you to be serious, lest you lose your sharing privileges for a couple days like last time." Castiel said calmly, brown furrowed. Dean covered his mouth to keep from snickering aloud.

"Okay, Doc. Jeeze, no fun allowed, eh toots?" He flashed a grin at the red headed girl, who grimaced. "C'mon, don't be that way, Anna. Lighten up. Anyways, the name's Gabriel, and I've been clean of cocaine for thirty days."

There were spatters of weak applause and Gabriel bowed enthusiastically, waving his hand. Dean cocked an eyebrow at him and he winked back.

"Very.. good, Gabriel." Castiel's voice was slightly gravelly, yet pleasing to the ears. Dean really liked it. "Who wants to share next? Dean?" Dean started at the sound of his name, blushing deeply and hoping he wasn't caught staring at the doctor. Gabriel waggled his eyebrows and Dean quickly shook his head.

"Very well, it is your first time, after all. Perhaps it's better you only observe today. Annael?" He cocked his head to the side as he looked at the red head, who timidly nodded. Unlike Gabriel, she did not stand up, choosing to remain in her seat.

"M-my name is Anna."

"Hi Anna."

"A-and I'm addicted to meth." Dean wasn't surprised by this, her entire mannerism showed it. He sat quietly as she talked about her troubles as several of the others did after her. At the end of the session, Castiel turned to Dean once more.

"Dean, final chance if you'd like to share." Dean shook his head again and Castiel smiled sympathetically.

"Very well, that ends our little session for today, ladies and gentleman." He said, dismissing the group. Dean went to stand up, only to feel a soft grip on his wrist. "Dean, would you mind staying back for a moment?" Dean swallowed hard as Castiel's eyes seemed to pierce through him but nodded, sitting back down. Castiel turned his body towards him, knees touching, and Dean felt himself enjoying the warmth more than he should.

"Soon very likely starting late tonight, now that you are out of the hospital, you will begin to undergo withdrawal. It is going to be a long and painful process, Dean, but you mustn't give in. I have faith in you." He smiled and patted Dean's hand, his skin soft.

Dean had been avoiding the thought of withdrawal, but he knew the doctor was right.

"Thanks, Castiel. I'm gonna do my best." Dean was bad with portraying emotions, and his voice cracked on the last word.

"I'm rooting for you." Castiel's smile was so genuine it left Dean in wonder. He nodded and listened carefully as Castiel told him things to expect throughout the process, giving him tips on things he could do to make the process easier.

"Mild hallucinations are rather common, especially with the harder drugs such as heroin, so do not be alarmed if you hear voices or possibly see things. I know that sounds frightening, but it will pass within a few days, I promise."

Dean was admittedly panicked but nodded, walking back to his room and deciding to take a nap to calm himself.

**~13 Years Earlier~**

"This is gonna be great! I can't wait for you to meet my dad." Dean held Michael's hand softly, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. He only hoped his dad was sober.

Michael used his other hand to fix the collar of his shirt nervously. "I hope he likes me." He patted his light brown hair down, fidgeting slightly.

"How couldn't he?" Dean smiled, opening the door to his house. "Hey Dad, there's someone here I want you to meet!" Dean called out, pulling Michael in. John rounded the corner, empty beer bottle in hand as usual.

"Who the fuck izzat?" He slurred out, squinting at Michael.

Dean frowned. "Dad, this is my boyfriend, Michael. I told you he was coming over."

John's eyes widened at this. "What the fuck did you just say?"

"This is my boy-"

"Shuddup, I know what you fuckin' said!" John spat out. "No, you're not s'posed to have a boyfriend!"

"I.. I'm not?" Dean looked over at Michael in confusion to see he was glaring at John. "But w-why?"

"Because, no son of mine is gonna be a fag! You're a normal boy, and I won't have no fag in this house! Get this fucker outta her now!"

"But Da-"

"NOW!" John screamed, throwing the bottle at Michael, who barely dodged it.

Dean pushed Michael out of the door quickly, shielding him.

"I-i can't see you anymore. Please.. please don't tell anyone about my dad." He said sadly with tears in his eyes, closing the door before Michael could object.


	4. Chapter 4

**~Now~**

Dean sat up with a start, sweat drenching his body and making his clothes stick to him like an uncomfortable second skin. He shivered violently, a soft whimper escaping his chapped lips. It was dark outside and Dean's clock told him that it was a little after two in the morning. His entire body ached and his bed was damp but he didn't care, choosing to curl up on it, groaning as hard shivers racked his body again.

He craved it. He craved it so fucking bad that it hurt and every fiber of his being screamed for it. He stayed in his bed, tossing and turning for hours until the faint golden glow of sunrise finally flooded his room. He decided to take a shower, flipping the water from cold to hot and back again as his temperature changed dramatically on his own. He felt as if his own body was betraying him. Throwing on some sweat pants, he collapsed back onto the still slightly-damp bed, desperately attempting to fall back into an uneasy slumber.

Dean was awoken by a small knock on his door, aches and nausea spreading through his body once more as he tried to sit up. He grimaced before laying back again and muttering a 'Come in' to whoever was on the other side. Castiel entered, a soft smile on his face. Dean ran a hand through his wet hair, embarrassed of his current outward appearance. His chest was uncovered and Castiel glanced at it before shifting his gaze back to Dean.

"Hello, Dean. I came to check on your progress." Dean scoffed at this. He didn't really feel like he was progressing towards anything but death. Castiel sat down on the edge of the bed, looking down at Dean with his bright blue eyes. They seemed lighter today, but maybe it was just the different surroundings.

"I know right now is hard for you. This week is going to be a living Hell. I assure you that everything you're feeling at the moment is normal, so please do not convince yourself that you are dying." His tone was almost teasing and Dean couldn't help but smile weakly. "If you begin to see or hear anything out of the ordinary, please don't be afraid to come and get me." He brushed his hand over Dean's, a movement so light that Dean wasn't sure if he had imagined it or not.

"This is real, Dean. Your family is real, and we all believe in you." He smiled another one of his genuine smiles and Dean had to look away. Castiel stood up and walked to the door, pausing right in the doorway.

"Oh, and if you ever need me, my office is only two doors that way." He pointed down the left hallway before heading in that direction, closing the door gently behind him.

Dean frowned. Everyone was so nice to him; too nice,. He didn't deserve it. He deserved to be screamed at and shaken and told how shitty he truly is. He thought of what his dad would say if he were still alive and chuckled dryly. He kinda wished Sam had been angrier. Or maybe he just wished that his little brother had cared more before all of this. He frowned and turned over, falling back to sleep.

**~5 Years Earlier~**

"Sorry Dean, you can't come over." Sam said over the phone, cancelling on his older brother yet again. Dean knew Sam's excuses were lies, and he had been pretending to believe them for several months now; but he was strung out, frustrated, and in a fighting kinda mood.

"You're avoiding me. I know it." Dean's voice was gruff and accusatory. He narrowed his eyes, even though he was talking over the phone.

"No, I'm just busy. That's all."

"Sam, I know when you're lying, it's in your voice. Be a man. Admit that you're avoiding me!"

Dean could hear the anger rising in Sam's voice, but he pushed it further anyways, and after several minutes of this bickering back and forth, Sam finally snapped.

"Fine, you wanna hear the truth?" Sam growled.

"Hell yeah I do!"

"Okay, then, here it is! You're nothing but a washed-up druggie. I've tried helping you, but I can't do it anymore! I give up! I have a girlfriend now, and I'm moving up in my career. Hell, soon I'll be one of the best damn lawyers money can buy, and I can't have you bringing me down anymore, Dean! I just... can't deal with you!"

There was a lot of silence, mostly because Dean wanted to compose himself. He choked back the tears, feeling a hard lump in his throat.

"...Dean, I didn't mean... that came out a lot harsher than... Dean I'm-"

"Fine."

"Dean-"

"No! You've made your feelings clear. I won't be a burden on you any longer, dear brother. Go start your new family!" He spat out the words like venom, hanging up the phone and throwing it across the room. It shattered, but Dean paid it no attention. He collapsed onto his couch, shoulders heaving with uncontrollable sobs.

**~Now~**

"Wake up, Dean-O." Dean heard, as if through a haze, jolting up suddenly. His eyes sprung open and he looked around the room wildly, seeing no one. He knew that voice; it had haunted him throughout his youth, but he had been void of it for ten years now.

He let out a breath, slumping his shoulders and resting his head against the wall as he allowed his eyes to flutter closed again.

"You've got yourself in a fine mess here, huh Dean-O?"

Dean tensed once more, opening his eyes slowly, afraid to confirm what he knew was there already.

The room was dark, but the glow of the moon still illuminated John's face.

"D-dad?" Dean pushed himself closer against the wall, as if he could melt into it. A small part of him wanted to run away screaming, but he couldn't bring himself to move.

"Aren't you just a royal fuck-up? Then again, I guess you haven't changed that much." John drawled. He looked bored, like a large cat playing with a terrified mouse not because he was hungry, but because he enjoyed giving that kind of horror to another creature.

"No, you're not real." Dean yelped, face pale. He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself.

"Of course I'm not, you fucking idiot. God, and here I hoped you might get at least a little bit brighter." John smirked, narrowing his eyes.

"Just leave me alone."

"Look at you. You disgust me. You think rehab is gonna make you better? Make Sammy wantchya back in his family and you'll run off into the fucking sunset? You're still just as useless and even more pathetic."

"I said LEAVE ME ALONE!" Dean screamed, clenching his fists.

"Aww is Deany Weeny gonna cry? How sad."

Dean screamed, flinging at a fist at his father. He swung through the air, managing to hit his lamp. It fell to the floor and shattered. Dean was breathing heavy, looking around the empty room as if daring his father to come back. After several minutes, Dean finally laid back down again, slowly relaxing his muscles.

It wasn't long before he felt a soft pressure on his shoulder. He sat up quickly again, afraid of what would be confronting him now. He wasn't expecting what he did see.

She looked beautiful, youthful and healthy, like she had before the disease had started to eat away at her from the inside. Her hair was fluttering slightly as if a breeze was hitting it just right and she wore a long pure white dress.

"Mom?" The emotion in that word made him nearly break down right there as he held back tears that were already trying to escape.

"Yes, Dean." She smiled, a smile that looked remarkably like his own, but infinitely more beautiful on her.

"Oh Mom!" Dean's voice cracked, a tear sliding down his face, leaving a wet trail behind it.

"Shh, don't cry baby. It's okay, mommy's here." Dean didn't move. He was afraid that if he so much as stretched his leg that she would disappear and be gone forever. Instead he just looked at her, taking in all the details that he hadn't seen in so long.

"I miss you so much." He whispered, quivering slightly.

"I know baby." Her voice was so sweet and it brought back memories of summers on the porch, sipping lemonade as she told them a fantastical story about two little boys who saved the world.

"I... I'm so sorry, Mom."

"Shh, I know."

"What do.. what do I do?"

"Give up."

"I.. what?" Dean cocked his head to the side in confusion. Mary's sweet smile remained on her face, but somehow it seemed more mocking now.

"Well look at what you've become. You used to be my baby. Now, you're just a disappointment to me. You've broken my heart, Dean." A crack appeared in her face, as if she were made of fine china. Dean's eyes widened in fear as Mary's eyes turned completely black, the smile only growing wider.

"You tried so hard to protect Sam, but you failed. You always fail because that's what you are; a failure. You've become the man you hate the most. You've become your father." Her face cracked more, but the smile didn't falter.

"NO!" Dean yelled, frantically looking around the room. He caught glimpse of his reflection of the mirror and stared at it in horror. Where his own face should have been was John's, holding the exact same expression that Dean was sure he had on now.

"I'm not!" He yelled, curling up into a ball and holding himself, hot tears spilling onto his cheeks.

"Oh, but you are. And you know it. You couldn't even protect poor Sam. No wonder he left and abandoned you." Dean covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, whimpering to himself.

"No no no no no no no no!" He repeated over and over, fisting his fingers into his hair. He was hyperventilating now, nearly on the verge of vomiting as he shook on the bed. He remained that way for a long time, unsure of when the taunting stopped and when he drifted into a painful rest.


	5. Chapter 5

The next few days were extremely hard for Dean and he spent most of the time laying in his bed. Castiel tried to bring him food, but he just turned it away. After a week of this, however, he began to feel significantly better, even a bit hungry at times. He woke up one morning and decided he finally felt well enough to go to the group meeting.

When he walked in, the smile Castiel gave him seemed to light up the room, and Dean wasn't surprised to feel his own cheeks heat up. He quickly grabbed a doughnut off the table and sat beside the doctor, nibbling on it tentatively.

"Nice to see ya made it, kid." Gabriel remarked, winking at Dean. He scowled back with no real anger.

"We should 'hang out' later." Gabriel smirked and Dean felt his blush deepen, much to his frustration.

"That's enough of that." Castiel said, a bit sharper than his normal tone. Gabriel stuck his tongue out at the doctor but didn't continue talking.

Dean noticed Anna wasn't with the group and wondered if she had left; he didn't want to be like Anna, not anymore. Looking over at Gabriel, he realized he actually respected the Hell outta the guy, even if he was irritating. He'd made it for a long time, and worked hard. He had been determined to stay with it and not quit, like Dean hoped to be.

"Dean, would you like to share today?"

"...Hey, my name is Dean."

"Hi Dean."

"And I've been clean for one week."

It was a small accomplishment, but it felt like the world to him. It felt good to be able to say that.

He was met with overly-enthusiastic applause from Gabriel and a heart-warming smile from Castiel.

When the meeting ended, Dean went back to his room in high spirits. Gabriel followed him; but instead of continuing down the hall to his room, he stopped at Dean's doorway, leaning against the frame lazily.

"Hey kiddo!" He spoke up cheerily.

"We are the same age." Dean grumbled, switching the lamp next to his bed on.

"Whatever. So how's it going?" Gabriel asked, taking a step closer.

"Um, fine. Is there a reason you're here?" Dean rolled his eyes.

"Well, kid. I got an itch, and I think you can help me scratch it."

Gabriel grinned, stepping closer. Dean cocked an eyebrow, staring down at the petite, hazel-eyed man.

"If you're trying to ask me out, the answer is no."

"What, and break the Doc's heart? No, I don't wanna date you, you're kind of an asshole."

"Look whose talking..." Dean mumbled, grimacing at the smaller man.

Gabriel ignored him, pushing on with his point. "Nah, I'm suggesting a purely physical agreement." Dean took a step back, considering the idea. He let his eyes wander down Gabriel's body, and couldn't deny that he was attractive. And he definitely had that whole boyish charm thing going on.

Gabriel grinned as he watched Dean, pulling his pants down and fully exposing himself. Dean blushed, turning his head to the side.

"Fine. Just pull your friggin pants up." He said. It'd been a while since he'd had sex anyways, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't excited for the opportunity.

"Great! I'll come see ya sometime. Now.." Gabriel stepped even closer, their noses nearly touching. "How about a goodbye kiss?"

Dean let out a little sigh before fisting his fingers into the smaller man's honey-colored hair, pulling him into a long, deep kiss. He traced his tongue around Gabriel's lips, asking for admittance and gaining it before diving in. The other man's mouth was hot and tasted of sweet candy, and it kinda made Dean hungry. He broke away after several moments, slightly breathless but smiling cockily.

"I see I made a good choice." Gabriel purred, leaving the room with a wiggle of his ass. Dean fell back onto his bed with a huff and couldn't help but wonder what was missing about that kiss.

Dean sat alone during lunch at a small circular table. He took a large bite of his burger and groaned in pleasure. Fuck yeah, burgers.

He looked up at the sound of the chair beside him scraping against the linoleum to see Castiel sitting down gracefully, a shy smile on his face.

"Do you mind if I sit here? I normally eat lunch in my office, but today I seemed to have locked myself out and must wait for the janitor to come back from break in an hour." Castiel explained, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"Of course I don't care." Dean said, wiping his mouth hastily with his sleeve. He tried his best to avoid eye contact, staring intently at his burger.

He heard a soft moan beside him, low and throaty, and a chill went down his spine as his actions froze. His head snapped to look at Castiel, who was happily biting into his own burger. His chewing slowed as he saw the look on Dean's face.

"Did I make a noise?" Castiel asked, blushing and placing his food on the tray. Dean nodded, mouth ajar and a hear growing in his groin. "I um.. I really love burgers. They're my favorite food, and sometimes I just get caught up in them." Castiel chuckled, embarrassed. Dean spluttered, looking down quickly.

There was slightly awkward silence for several more moments before Castiel spoke up once more.

"Next week, I would like to start our private sessions." Dean threw a confused look at Castiel, urging him to continue. "I meet with all of my patients privately for sessions, kind of like therapy." He explained with a warm smile.

"Sounds great, Cas." Dean said, trying to contain his excitement as he finished off his burger.

"W-what?" Castiel cocked his head to the side, cheeks tinged pink.

"I said it sounds great." Dean repeated, taking a sip of soda.

"You called me Cas." Castiel pressed, his lips curving up at the corners.

"Oh, sorry dude. Is that bad?"

"N-no, I've just never been called that..." Castiel trailed off, staring at a fry he held between his slender fingers.

"I like it." He whispered, cheeks flushing as his smile grew wider.

"Oh." Dean breathed out, fiddling with his straw. He finished up eating quickly and marched up to Gabriel, yanking him away from the others by his collar and dragging him away.

"You. Me. Now!"

This continued for the rest of the week, Dean and Gabriel making frequent visits to one another's rooms. He felt like a teenager, sneaking rendezvous with the smaller man. Gabriel's stupid jokes didn't help, and Dean found himself picturing a certain doctor in their intimate moments. Castiel continued to eat lunch with Dean, first claiming he had once again locked himself out, then coming just for the conversation and laughs. Everything was actually going really well.

That is, until Sam came to visit him. Dean was worried when he was told to come to the visitor room; it wasn't during the usual time that Sam would be coming to see him. When Sam sat down at the sterilized table, his disheveled appearance only made Dean more nervous.

"What's wrong, Sammy?" Dean asked, taking a seat in the cold metal chair beside his brother.

"Jessica..." Sam seemed to choke on his words, eyes tearing up. "Jessica had a miscarriage. The baby's gone, Dean; MY BABY! A-and she says it's all my fault, maybe it is. We're getting a divorce. She can't even look at me anymore!" Sam reached out and wrapped his arms around Dean, burying his face into the crook of his older brother's neck and sobbing openly. Dean was at a loss for words, pulling Sam closer and stroking down his long hair.

"Sammy.. I'm so sorry." He whispered. He wanted to say more, but there aren't words when a situation such as that arises, there are only actions. So he held Sam tightly, protecting his younger brother like he had so many times in his life, and like he had failed to so many more.

When they finally broke apart, he listened. He listened as Sam told him about all of their preparations, how badly he didn't want to call his friends and tell them there would be no baby shower, and about the beautifully decorated nursery that would remain empty and unused, no longer destined to be filled with the joyous laughter of a baby girl.

After what felt like hours, Sam finally stopped sobbing, reducing to the occasional sniffle and hiccup.

"I guess I'm not all that surprised by the divorce, though; we've been on the edge for a while. W-we hoped the baby would give us all a fresh start." He looked away, trying to gain control of himself.

Just then, Gabriel walked by with his usual cocky mannerism. He walked by a few steps but froze, whipping his head back around and fixing his eyes on the miserable Sam. The latter looked up at the smaller man with wide, puppy dog eyes, hiccuping quietly.

If it were possible for a single look could show heartbreak in it's truest form, Gabriel was giving a damn good shot at it as he stared back at Sam. He took a small step towards him, a hand half raised towards him. Sam glanced at it quizzically, as if unsure what to do.

"I'm Gabriel." The trickster spoke up, his voice uncharacteristically soft. Dean glared up at him, confused and suspicious of the man's odd behavior. Sam went to open his mouth but was cut off by his brother.

"Now's not the time, Gabe." He hissed. Gabriel didn't move, keeping his eyes locked with Sam's, as if in a trance. Dean cleared his throat and Gabriel seemed to jolt awake, muttering something about papers and rushing off.

"What's up with that guy?" Sam asked, a little too nonchalantly.

"Oh, him? Just some jackass that goes here." Dean explained, waving a hand in the air. Sam seemed to perk up after that, leaving the clinic with dry eyes and a small smile.

That night, Gabriel was much more into their little rendezvous than normal.

The next morning was Dean's first meeting with Castiel. They had had to postpone it a bit, due to Anna's sudden return to the clinic (apparently she left and came back regularly), but it was finally time. Dean awoke early, fiddling with his hair in the mirror longer than usual. He fidgeted nervously, looking at himself. But not just the normal glance or two, but really ilooking/i, for the first time since 'that day'. He looked healthier, he thought. His green eyes were no longer sunken and dull, and they had a little bit of their old sparkle back. His face was regaining the handsome features he once possessed and his skin glowed with a light tan.

He smiled confidently, adjusting his shirt as he walked the two-door distance to where his doctor was. The door was cracked open so he didn't bother knocking; instead he took a seat across from the empty desk and waited, looking around at the small office. Cas's desk was rather plain, with the usual assortment of paperwork and pens scattered about. There were no pictures of family and Dean wondered if Cas even had one. He seemed to be here constantly. There was a door on the side of the office next to the filing cabinet, and Dean guessed it led to Cas' living quarters. His suspicions were confirmed when Cas entered through it and Dean caught a glimpse of a nicely-made bed.

"Oh, Dean!" You're early. I'm not used to patients eagerly coming to these meetings." He smiled as he sat down, taking a sip from a coffee mug with a little bee on it.

"Well, I got up early than I meant to." Dean said, slightly defensive. Dean Winchester was not needy nor was he clingy, and he would not come off as such. Castiel nodded knowingly, smiling wider.

"Shall we start then?"


End file.
